Page 1 of Cry Madness

ONE

“Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop.”

—King of Hearts,Alice in Wonderland

Wonderland

Hilltop Academy

Graduation Night

Ishould be afraid.

Any girl in her right mind would be terrified.

But I’m not any girl…

…and Maddox Hathorne isn’t just any guy.

Wonderland’s wicked bad boy has me pinned against the purple wisteria next to the giant chessboard that lies at the heart of the maze behind my house. My every erratic heartbeat pounds almost painfully against my sternum as his hands explore my body. He growls my name low against my lips, thedeep rumble of his voice a delicious vibration under the hypnotic melody of Soap&Skin’s “Me and the Devil” playing on my cell phone lying somewhere nearby.

But Maddox breaks the kiss, just for a moment, to catch his breath before he dives back in with renewed vigor. He tastes like sin, sweltering nights, and other dark and taboo things. Countless times throughout the years, we’ve been here, in this very spot, but only as friends. Tonight, though, everything feels… different. The air around us seemed to crackle with anticipation as I followed him inside the maze. I felt the shift and knew that, for the first time, I’m not here with my best friend. Tonight, Maddox is someone I’ve only caught glimpses of over the years.

Tonight, he’s the person everyone in Wonderland fears.

We both received an invitation to Ivory and Scarlett’s party. Yet, when Maddox mentioned he didn’t plan on attending the celebration that would mark the end of our time at Hilltop Academy, I felt like there was an underlying meaning to his decision. I knew right then and there that I wouldn’t be going either.

And now, we’re here, alone, with the entire world faded into the background.

Well, maybe not theentireworld.

My father’s shadow is still cast heavily over me. How can it not be? He’s dying, and there’s not a thing his doctors were able to do to slow the cancer.

My mother put away my father’s beloved, two-foot-tall chess pieces even though I begged her not to. Little by little, she’s erasing him, wiping his legacy clean. In her relentless effort to keep Maddox and me apart, she likely mistakenly believed that we would stop coming here if they were gone.

Wrong.

When we couldn’t play chess anymore because she took away the pieces, we still kept the center of the maze as our private little spot. We’d sit here for hours on the chessboard, playing cards while listening to our favorite songs. From poker to war, he taught me all of his favorites—and he’d win almost every time.

Fair.

He’s fabulous at cards but terrible at chess and never bitched when I’d beat him at the game.

But tonight…

We didn’t come here to play cards.

Against the thick and knotted trunk, Maddox kicks my legs apart at the ankles and steps in closer to occupy the cozy space he created. The last thing on my mind is to stop him as he glides his smooth palm up the outside of my bare thigh. His touch sparks a delightful burning in its wake.

With my arms wrapped around his waist, I hug him tighter, loving how the warmth of his body seeps through my breezy yellow sundress. I’ve waited years for his lips to touch mine and his hands to roam my skin. Now that I have him right where I need him, I never want to let him go, and when he pulls his mouth away and offers me that confident, crooked smile, it stirs a flurry of butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

Never have I seen anyone as devastating as Maddox Hathorne. He’s lethally beautiful—especially considering the rumors people whisper about him.

I made a promise to myself that whoever he is when he’s not with me is none of my business. All I care about is that he’ll never hurt me. Never make me cry. He’s always been my strength when I’m weak, my humor when I’m sad, and my champion when I’m scared. Breathing him in, I savor his signature vetiver aroma. It’s rich and earthy—very…him. He studies my face as he trails afinger down the bridge of my nose. Then he traces that finger along my lower lip, his touch a slight tickle that has me smiling. His other hand playfully fidgets with the spaghetti straps of my dress, sliding them up and down over my sunburnt shoulder.

“I want to tell you a story.” His voice is deep and rough, with the words spoken slowly and almost thoughtfully, which is unusual for him.

Maddox exudes frenetic energy and often behaves impulsively. March—another orphaned boy who has become a brother toward him—and I made a pact. It’s our mission to keep him grounded.